


Final Preparations

by Altais4



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Exam Nerves, First Kiss, M/M, Tumblr: letscreatecabinpressure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1703369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altais4/pseuds/Altais4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being left by his second wife, Douglas meets a handsome stranger in a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Preparations

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Let's Write Cabin Pressure's May Challenge.
> 
> Prompt: A look into the past of one or all of the Cabin Crew before they became MJN Air
> 
> Again many thanks to Ianina for speedy beta!

The lights in the bar ware dim, almost too dark to have a good view, but the music was mercifully quiet and the drinks not too expensive. It wasn't Douglas’ first choice of venue, not by far, but tonight of all nights the place suited his mood. 

He was leaning against one of the many pillars, glass of fake vodka in hand, as he watched the all-male crowd, regulars chatting with their friends, others like him on the prowl, a few lucky ones making out on the sofas in the back. Douglas wasn’t particularly looking for someone, but, just now, even watching seemed more appealing than sitting in his empty flat or frequenting one of his regular pubs.

Staring into his glass, Douglas let a sardonic little smile flitter over his face. There was at least one good thing about being left by one’s wife. He was free to do all the things she disapproved off, including an occasional visit to gay bars. With that, Douglas cast another appreciative glance at the crowd. There was one lithe young man with prominent cheekbones in particular he had an eye on. 

Douglas had been watching him for a while. After a wait at the packed bar that felt like hours, trying to catch the bartender’s eye, the poor guy was now stumbling in his direction through the throng of people, agitatedly looking left and right, clutching his glass of mineral water as if his life depended on it.

It was a spur of the moment decision. Douglas made a minute step forward and then the young man was bumping into him, splashing water all over his shirt.

"Oh God, I’m so sorry. Did I... did I spill anything on you?"

"No," Douglas examined his own shirt with more care than strictly necessary. "Here, feel for yourself. Nothing happened." 

“Oh… oh that won’t be necessary, I believe you.”

Being flattered, Douglas registered the other man’s breath hitching at his proposal. “Hmm, you look a bit ruffled,” he added in his best suave tone. 

“What do you mean?” Nervously the man lifted his free hand to check his clothing. Douglas found it almost endearing watching the exact moment he realised the state his shirt was in. His face fell and he made a hasty step backwards. "Oh God, look at me… it’s all soaked. I can't get anything right.” The last bit was uttered with an surprising amount of venom.

“What? Spilling the drink or chatting up a stranger?” Douglas enquired playfully. 

“Nothing, it’s…” 

At that point, Douglas noticed the sagging shoulders and the crushed look on his new acquaintance’s face. His whole posture broadcasted defeat. "Hmm, is it your first time?" he asked sympathetically.

"No, actually it's my sev...” The man went abruptly quiet, pressing his beautiful lips into a thin line, as if he’d revealed too much. “Listen, I’ll have to go home.”

“Why the haste?” Douglas interjected speedily, not willing to let this pleasurable encounter end too quickly. “Look, if it’s about the money, let me buy you another one.” 

“No, I mean…” The shoulders sagged even more at that, and he gazed at his clean but worn-out clothes with an air of desperation. Douglas could hit himself for bringing it up. He didn’t want to embarrass the little bloke. 

Suddenly the other man lifted his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he said in a rush, “Look, I… I have this very important exam coming up tomorrow. And I really, really need to pass.” 

"Ah, you’re suffering from exam nerves,” Douglas ventured. He had a faint idea where this was heading. 

“You… you could say this.” 

“So, you came here for a little distraction?” he asked tentatively, hoping he got it right.

"Erm… well.” The stranger swallowed hard.

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Douglas murmured.

“Y… yes?” 

"Come here, no need to be shy," Douglas muttered softly. Then, without further delay, he looped his arms around the man and pulled him into a kiss. 

It was the merest touch of surprisingly soft lips. Transfixed by the sudden action, his impromptu partner stood stock still, emanating anxiety in waves. They remained standing like this for long moments, bodies flush against each other, heartbeats mingling. Then, after the tiniest of hesitations, the young man leaned in and plunged fiercely into the kiss. Douglas sighed heavily, tightening his grip. Nothing had felt this good in a very long time. He let his hands roam freely about the wiry back and the firm arse, relishing in the soft curls, as the man in his arms became more and more pliable. 

Closing his eyes in dark, Douglas began counting the seconds, not wanting to let go. There was something about this stranger, vulnerability mixed with defiance, a certain quality of innocence, he found hard to resist. He felt like he could go on exploring for hours. 

Breathing hard, he did the sensible thing and pulled back. 

“This was… oh…” His partner looked up, eyelids fluttering, as if awakening from a dream too quickly.

"So did it help?" Douglas asked, rather more shaken himself than he was willing to let on.

"Well… actually…I think yes. Thank you.” The young man stepped back and made a little abortive gesture towards his crotch, blushing furiously. 

“You’re welcome.” Truth be told, Douglas felt inexplicably cheered himself. 

"I… I'll better go now. Getting up early… the exam, you know." Fidgeting with the hem of his wet shirt, the other man lingered for a moment. Then he abruptly turned and headed towards the exit. 

“Good luck for tomorrow.” Douglas wasn’t quite sure, if he was being heard above the noise. Still smiling, he watched his handsome stranger disappearing into the crowd. Or, as it was, not a stranger anymore. Their unexpected kiss was lingering on his lips. Too late he realised that he didn’t even ask for the young man’s name. 

Shaking his head, Douglas finished his drink as he prepared to go, as well. In a way, it didn’t matter. With a bit of luck – and he had plenty of that – they would meet again. Fitton was hardly London, after all. 

Just like that, Douglas realised that his bad mood had lifted. Things were looking up again. 

The next day, Martin Crieff took his CPL for the seventh time and passed. He went home with a spring in his step. 

 

The End


End file.
